


Red Lace

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Biting, Blood, Bruises, Bulges and Nooks, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Established Relationship, Excessive Bodily Fluids, F/M, Fluff, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Inflation (Light), Injury, Lingerie, PWP, Post Game, Quadrant Vacillation, Scratching, Stockings, Swearing, excessive cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you get when you have a red crush on your kismesis and she's essentially the most awful tease in the entire world? A lot of things, most of them rather messy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Lace

**Author's Note:**

> Just a VrisKat smutfic from someone who doesn't think there's enough of that in the fandom. Red/Black Vacillation, and maybe a bit OOC since I got the idea from an RP. 
> 
> Characters depicted are aged up to above 18 in fic, living together post-game.

If there was one person in the entire miserable universe who knew how to get under Karkat’s skin, it was Vriska Serket. God, why did she have to be such an insufferable bitch? It wasn’t even that she ate his food and never offered to go grocery shopping. It wasn’t even that he had to put up living with the woman, which in all honesty was a pretty sweet deal since her less than legal casino activities meant she made more in a month than he’d make in a year and her desire to flash that money around meant she had no qualms about paying the entirety of the rent on more than one occasion. It wasn’t even that she was his kismesis and was always actively antagonizing him. No, it was the little things. The things that could be played off as innocent, inconsequential little things she did sometimes that just wildly pissed him off. 

It was shit like this. 

His day had already been kind of shitty. He’d had to stay late at work, not to mention he’d forgotten his wallet and therefore hadn’t had any money to buy lunch with, so when he got home he was exhausted and starving and he would have given anything for a hot shower and a few slices of the pizza he smelled upon entering the apartment before falling into bed. But there she was. 

Lounging casually on the couch. 

Munching on a slice of pizza. 

Wearing possibly the cutest pair of thigh highs he’d ever seen. 

He was immediately wary. 

"What are those?" He asked with a heavy, exasperated sigh as he entered the apartment, setting his bag down and heading over to join her on the couch. 

"Socks." She didn’t even take her eyes off the television. They were grey, darker than her bluish skin tone but not quite black. The tops were lined with bright red ruffles, and the fabric was dotted with what he first thought were polka dots, but upon closer inspection were revealed to be tiny, cartoonish crabs the same color as the ruffles. 

"You know I hate that color." 

"I know." 

She’d finished her pizza by now, so he wasted no time in kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket so he could position himself more comfortably on the couch without the hindrance of unneeded clothing. He tucked one leg beneath him, leaving the other to dangle off the side of the couch as he hooked his arms under her knees and tugged her sharply. This succeeded in pulling her shoulders and head off the arm of the couch so she was laid flat, and the way she grinned at his actions just made him roll his eyes. 

"Where did you even find these?" He asked as he leaned down to press a kiss against the sharp point of her hipbone. 

"That’s my little secret, Vantas." He ran his lips downwards and she squeaked when he dug his dull fangs into the uncovered flesh of her upper thigh, earning himself a scowl from her and a hand in his hair, pulling him roughly upwards and into a slightly sloppy kiss. When he took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down hard enough to break it open, making the kiss ever messier with the addition of cerulean blood, he was treated to the feeling of her fingernails raking down his back, shredding right through his shirt and to his skin beneath. 

"Fuck!" He growled against her lips, biting again at the already broken skin then lapping away the blood that he’d spilled. His lips worked their way down her jaw and to her throat, where he let them latch onto a patch of skin above her jugular and begin sucking a hickey onto her skin. 

"Can’t take a little pain?" She asked as she ran her fingertips back up along the bloody scratches she’d left on his back. 

"I’m more annoyed about you ruining my shirt," he grumbled back, biting down harshly on her throat but not nearly hard enough to puncture her. A soft trill left her lips, long ears lowering to the sides in a relaxed position as he sucked another mark onto her skin, little tingles of pleasure radiating out from the bruise. 

As payback for the ruined garment, he curled his fingers into either side of the button-down pajama top she wore and ripped his hands away from her, sending buttons skittering all over the apartment’s floor and leaving the fabric to hang from her shoulders. The offended noise she gave was satisfaction enough, and the glare she was giving him as he pulled back was the cherry on top. He gave her a peck on the lips before sitting back entirely so he could lift his shirt over his head. 

She was on him in an instant, climbing up into his lap and digging her spidery fangs into the exposed flesh of his shoulder. He gave a grunt that indicated he’d felt it, but put his focus on what his hands were doing, one gripping one of her thighs and the other sliding down the back of her shorts to run over the curve of her rear and down to the slit of her nook, pressing delicately against the folds and earning himself a contented hum in his ear. 

"Turn around," he suggested, pulling both hands up to her waist and nudging her until she turned in his lap, back against his chest. He reached up to pull the remains of her shirt off, then allowed her to settle into a comfortable position, sitting between his legs with her head tilted back against his chest, tucked beneath his chin. He let a warm breath puff over one of her horns and grinned at the shiver she gave. As much as he enjoyed being rough with her and getting the same treatment in return, he could enjoy this too. 

He could feel her shift against him when he pressed his lips against the base of her horn, sucking and letting his tongue flick against the smooth keratin, lighting up the nerves beneath. Her arms reached back, curling around his neck as a moan slipped past her lips. 

"You’re a shitty kismesis," she said. One of his hands came to her chest, squeezing and rubbing the small swell of her breast (she was pretty, but if there was one thing she didn’t have it was curves), thumb teasing against her nipple. His free hand ventured downwards, dipping back into her shorts to rub against the sheathe of her bulge. 

"You need this as much as I do," he murmured and she didn’t disagree. Neither of them had any quadrants, aside from each other. Neither was opposed to playing palemate when the other needed it, even if Vriska wasn’t very good at being a moirail. Tonight was one of the nights where he was feeling a little needy for red affection, and he knew she could be the same way, so when his lips returned to gently working the base of her horn and his hand moved down a little further to rub tenderly against her nook as her bulge wormed out and curled around his wrist, she just sighed and relaxed back into his chest. He let his hand drop from her chest, arm wrapping around her midsection and hugging her closer to his chest. 

He planted a kiss on the side of her head, then let his head duck down so his lips could find her neck again. He began lavishing her with small kisses and licks here and there, and each was met with a sign, mumble, or squirm. She rolled her hips downwards, and at this point there was no denying the wriggling length pressing back against her rear as she did, letting her know just how worked up he was already. 

"Guess you liked the socks," she said, and he could practically hear the smirk in her voice. "Take my shorts off." Warily, but without complaint or question, he moved his unoccupied hand grip her shorts and work them down and off her legs. There, with his hand shoved down the front of them and already stained pretty badly blue, were a pair of red, lace panties. 

"You’re sick," he snorted. "The only reason you buy these thing in red is because you know I hate-"

"More like love. You love seeing me in your color.” No argument left his mouth. Instead he pulled his hand away from her bulge so he could grasp her and lift her up off his lap, moving her forward and bending her over so her knees were in the couch and her upper body was resting over the arm of it. She stayed put as he dragged his lips down her spine, coming to settle between her thighs. His fingers dipped into the lace panties, pulling them down her thighs to settle at her knees. He held her bulge out of the way, stroking it idly as his tongue slipped between her folds, lapping at the sweet, cerulean fluids.

A happy purr immediately began rumbling from her throat, but it was interrupted by a soft ‘oh!’ when he delved a little deeper, free hand holding her hip to steady her as he licked his way from the entrance of her nook to the base of her bulge then back again, pressing a kiss against the wiggling tentacle halfway through the journey. He kept this up for a good while, ears twitching to catch every little whimper and moan she gave.

He pulled back when he felt her muscles trembling, signaling that she was getting close to her release, which was something he didn’t particularly want to happen while his face was between her legs. He moved back with a tongue stained blue only to be met with a whine of complaint. 

"I was almost theeeeeeeere." 

"Duh." He let his eyes sweep across the mess of translucent cerulean fluids dribbling down her thighs, staining her socks and the forgotten panties. "Relax, Serket, I’m not stupid." He hopped up, giving her a pat on the shoulder as he headed off towards their bathroom and returned with a towel. He laid it out on the couch and she shifted forward so she was over it, not wanting to make any kind of huge stain on the couch. Then they’d have to get a new one, because a couch with giant genetic material stains on it was not something their landlord was likely to tolerate. She was pretty lenient, but that would be pushing it. 

He took a moment to shuck his pants off, then climbed up behind her on the couch, leaning over so his chest was to her back again as his hips pressed to hers. He let his bulge do its own thing for the moment, groaning at the feeling as it twined with hers. He pushed her mass of hair off to the side so he could get at her neck again, kissing and biting, half between red and black romance, clearly indecisive. His hands ran up her arms where they were sprawled over the side table, holding her wrists in a bruising grip for a moment in a distinctly caliginous gesture before he changed his mind, moving them a bit further up to let his fingers slide between hers and hold more gently. This was definitely one of their more red nights. 

"Come oooooooon!" She demanded, obviously getting impatient. "I never make you wait this long when it’s my turn to top.” He snorted against her skin, amused. 

"That’s only because every time you’re in the mood to top it’s after a fight." Nonetheless, he did draw his hips back some, pulling his bulge away from hers and giving it room to find her nook instead. The tapered tip slipped inside with ease, and he gave her hands a squeeze as he rocked his hips forward to fit the rest inside. He shivered at the temperature difference, coolness pressing down around him. She moaned for the same reason. 

"Finally," she sighed. He pressed a kiss to her ear, taking the tip between his teeth to nibble on as his bulge curled and squirmed inside of her, assisted only a bit by the slight and consistent rocking of his hips. 

"I’m trying to be romantic. Fucking sorry it’s such a strain on your patience.” He gave a slightly rougher buck against her, earning a surprised squeak. 

"More like trying to be a tease," she grumbled back. He released one of her hands, running his fingers lightly down the length of her body to find her bulge, letting it slide between his fingers and rub against his palm. 

"Here, hang on." He pulled out, and, geez, if looks could kill… He rolled her over, letting her lean back against the arm of the couch so she was settled on her back instead, a position he thought more suitably conductive to red romance. He tugged her panties the rest of the way off, then pressed himself down against her again, not wasting any time in letting the cherry red tendril slide back inside of he as he caught her lips in a deep kiss. 

His arms wrapped around her, hugging her close as he gently rolled his hips against hers. She humored him, twining her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer to deepen the kiss further. He was careful of her broken lip, sure to not kiss too roughly and reopen the wound. 

He could feel that tremble in her muscles again, so he pulled away from the kiss, watching her face with interest. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her heavy flush painting a pleasant shade of cerulean across her cheeks. She was biting on her lip. making it bleed again with her needle-like fangs, so he brought a hand up and gently tugged it with his thumb, pulling it out from between her fangs. She greeted the movement with a playful nip against the tip of his thumb. 

He trailed that hand down her body, sliding it in between them and curling it around her bulge since he could feel himself drawing close to his finish as well. That seemed to do it for her, hands scrabbling to hold tighter onto his shoulders, breath coming in pants against his skin as she hid her face against his neck, half-choked little cry leaving her lips as tremors wracked her thin frame and cool material splattered between them. 

He pressed closer to her then, capturing her lips in another kiss as his hips picked up speed, hurrying him along to his own finish. With a soft moan and a few heavy, panting breaths, he released inside her. She shivered noticeably at the flood of warm genetic material, red dribbling out from around his bulge as he pressed his forehead to hers and let their gazes lock. 

"I love you," he told her, just as he always would after an especially red evening. 

"No you don’t," she told him, just as she always would after an especially red evening. 

His bulge squirmed out, retreating into its sheathe, and he laid there for a moment with his head tucked against her shoulder before rising. For once she was patient, waiting quietly until he returned with a first-aid kit and a damp towel in one arm, and a bucket dangling from his unoccupied wrist. 

Sitting up when her genetic pouch was full up with material was certainly uncomfortable, even with him assisting her, her situation apparent in both the way she winced and in the slight swell of her lower stomach, skin tinted red with the bright mutant material. He slipped the bucket beneath her.

She held to his shoulders to steady herself as he pressed his hands gently to her stomach, massaging so as to urge her muscles to relax, and a moment later there was a splash of color filling a little over half the pail, mostly candy red but with a definite twinge of cerulean. She slumped tiredly against him, and he was quick to move the bucket off the couch, not liking the idea of it spilling everywhere and making a huge mess like they were trying to avoid 

He grabbed the towel up then, nudging and shifting her into a position where he could clean the blood from her lip, then the material from her stomach and thighs. Once she was all tidied up, she moved, picking the first-aid kit up and setting it in her lap. 

He turned obligingly without need for instruction, listening as she ripped open a packet containing an antiseptic wipe and began cleaning up the bloody scratches on his back. One was still dribbling blood, so she grabbed one of the large, square Band-Aids from the box and pressed it into place, laying a gentle kiss over the area once the bandage had been applied. 

When that was done it was her turn again, so he turned back around and tugged her into his lap. He pulled a cotton ball and a bottle of alcohol from the box, wetting the tuft and dabbing it over her busted lip, cleaning away the rest of the blood and cleansing the wound.

When they were finally both clean and patched up, he pushed the stained towel off the couch and settled down with her. She pressed into his warmth, purring contentedly as she nuzzled her face against his neck. 

"I like the stockings, by the way," he said, reaching down to playfully tug the band of one. 

"I know." She grinned, and he delivered a kiss to her forehead. 

"And I love you." His voice was softer on that. He hugged her a little tighter to his chest. 

"I know."


End file.
